“What do you mean, Nannie?” in a somewhat bored tone.
“Come, dear, tell me,” continued Nan, with cheerful pertinacity. “You are never dull or touchy without some good reason. What has been the matter the last few days? Are you vexed or disappointed about anything? Are you sure—quite sure you are pleased about Dick?”—the idea occurring to her suddenly that Phillis might not approve of their imprudent engagement.
“Oh, Nannie, how absurd you are!” returned Phillis, pettishly. “Have I not told you a dozen times since Wednesday how delighted I am that you have come to an understanding? Have I not sounded his praises until I was hoarse? Why, if I had been in love with Dick myself I could not have talked about him more.”
“Yes, I know you have been very good, dear; but still I felt there was something.”
“Oh, dear, no!” returned Phillis decidedly, and her voice was a little hard. “The fact is, you are in the seventh heaven yourself, and you expect us to be there too. Not that I wonder at you, Nannie, because Dick—dear old fellow—is ever so nice.”
She threw in this last clause not without intention, and of course the tempting bait took at once.
“I never knew any one half so good,” replied Nan, in a calmly satisfied tone. “You have hinted once or twice, Phil, that you thought him rather too young,—that our being the same age was a pity; but—do you know?—in Dick’s case it does not matter in the least. No man double his age could have made his meaning more plain, or have spoken better to the purpose. He is so strong and self-reliant and manly: and with all his fun, he is so unselfish.”
“He will make you a very good husband, Nan; I am sure of that.”
“I think he will,” returned Nan, with a far-away look in her 242 eyes. She was recalling Dick’s speech about the nest that he wanted to make cosey for some one. “Phil, dear,” she went on, after this blissful pause, “I wish you had a Dick too.”
“Good Gracious, Nannie!”